


Physician, Heal Thyself

by trycatpennies



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hospital, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 06:46:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trycatpennies/pseuds/trycatpennies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Me and hello_mcee were trapped in the ER for hours, and we entertained ourselves by imagining nurse!kris. this is what spawned.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Physician, Heal Thyself

**Author's Note:**

> Me and hello_mcee were trapped in the ER for hours, and we entertained ourselves by imagining nurse!kris. this is what spawned.

"Drew Serkilt," Kris calls, holding the phone receiver upside down and speaking into the mouthpiece. He'll never get used to his voice over that PA, seriously. He always sounds like a different person. "Drew Serkilt, exam room twelve."

He watches as a guy gets up from a seat, struggling a little. The kid looks about seventeen, and he's wearing a baseball hat sideways; Kris wonders idly why there's still a sticker on the front, and if the kid knows it's there.

He nods at the nurse working reception and then heads off to examine and triage Serkilt, Drew, in exam room twelve.

So there's a very flustered seventeen year old sitting in the room when Kris opens the door, and there's an empty box of latex gloves next to him, its contents spread mostly over the floor. There's one on Drew's hand and Kris smirks before pointedly ignoring the mess and sitting across from Drew.

"So, it's Drew, right?" Kris says, flipping open the folder in his hands and pretending to study it. It says pretty much nothing. That's Kris' job.

"Yeah," Drew says, fiddling with a glove that's in his lap, fidgety. "Sorry about the-"

Kris waves him off, smiling.

"Don't sweat it, seriously." He rolls closer and cocks his head. "Your leg?"

Drew nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically, and then hikes up his pant leg, revealing a swollen ankle and a purplish foot tucked into a loose sneaker.

"I think I broke it," Drew says, and Kris can tell he's holding back the smile.

"Yeah, no shit."

-

 

It's Brad who first points it out, and Kris rolls his eyes (his typical reaction to Brad) until it sinks in, and he turns on him, eyes wide.

"Dr. Lambert," Kris says, and Brad nods, bending over the counter at the nurses station and raising an eyebrow. "Dr. Adam Lambert."

The disbelief in Kris' tone makes Brad shrug, and he taps his pen on the chart he's holding before speaking pointedly.

"Look, Kris. He likes you. Like, actually likes you." Brad licks his lips. "And trust me, when Adam wants something, you're probably better to just-" He makes a fluttering motion with his hand that Kris assumes means 'go for it' or, knowing Brad, something dirtier.

"Yeah, that's great, Brad," Kris says, and he leans his chin on his hand, staring at the computer. "But I'm straight."

"Honey." Brad puts a hand over his heart, looking shocked and innocent, a look Kris has seen one too many times when Brad's looking to get something out of someone. "No one is straight. People just don't _know_ they want dick." Brad perks up, smiling. " _I_ enlighten."

Kris laughs, sighing.

"Great. Go enlighten someone else."

Brad stalks off, and Kris smiles to himself, because as much as Brad likes to annoy him, he's a saving grace for a night shift in the ER on a Monday.

It's Kris' fourth year at Whittier, eighth month in ER triage, and seventh night shift in a row with Brad.

"When are you going to let me sweep you off your feet?"

Oh, and third night with Dr. Lambert as ER resident.

Kris spins in his chair, turning away from where Adam's taken up Brad's vacated space. Adam makes a hurt noise and then comes around the counter, sitting in the chair across from Kris and spinning around, making faces at nothing. Kris is watching, out of the corner of his eye, and he starts when Adam slaps the counter and brings his spinning to a halt.

"You know, I like you, right?" Adam says, and Kris snorts, turning to face Adam.

"Doctor-"

"Adam."

" _Doctor_ , you've dated almost every nurse in this hospital. And some of the patients, if rumors are to be believed." Kris shakes his head, leaning in towards Adam and looking carefully around, making sure no one can hear them. "I'm not into it."

Adam blinks, then slides smoothly closer to Kris, grabbing the arm of Kris' chair and keeping him in place.

"Not into me, or not into it. Because I don't know what 'it' is, but I'm pretty sure we can find other things to do." Adam leers at Kris, who flushes and pushes Adam away, turning back to his computer.

-

Coffee with Katy is a weekly ritual, and just because they broke up a year and a half ago apparently doesn't mean the ritual ends.

"That's why it's a ritual," Katy had told him. So they kept it up.

Kris stops into the Starbucks three blocks from the hospital, shaking rain from his hair and forcing a smile at the barista who greets him. He spots Katy, her legs tucked under her, a coffee in her hand and a magazine perched on her lap.

He's late, again. Again, again. It's one of the reasons they broke up, because he was late, never around, distant. It was all true, and Kris sort of gets it that it's easier to deal with in a friend than in someone who's going to be your significant other for life. Especially when that person shows no sign of changing.

So thank god Katy smiles when she looks up, and Kris orders his drink and snags it off the bar before sliding into the seat next to Katy, pecking her on the cheek. Katy folds up her magazine and smiles, setting it down.

"Sorry," Kris says, and he takes a sip of his drink, grimacing as he burns his tongue on the too hot coffee. Katy's smile drops at the corners, looking a little concerned, before she sits back in her chair, waiting.

She's giving him that _look_. Kris hates that look.

"Kris, I just-" Katy starts, and he waves his hand, sipping more carefully.

"I'm sleeping, I'm eating. Hell, I even laugh once in a blue moon," Kris says, and Katy sighs. "I'm married to the work, and I always will be. I know, it's killing me."

It's the same speech she's given him before.

"Okay, I believe that you're eating and that you're sleeping. Not so much with the laughing, but I'm pretty sure you summon up a chuckle every once in awhile. But Kris," Katy leans in, cocking her head and glancing at the counter to make sure no one is listening. "When was the last time you got laid?"

Kris swallows hard, nearly choking on his coffee, and he pounds his chest a few times, trying to clear his throat while Katy looks on with a somewhat amused look. They've known each other for years, over a decade, and dating and had sex for a better part of it and-

He's never heard her say 'got laid'.

"Oh jeez," Kris says, and he's a little wheezy, still coughing a little on coffee, his eyes watering. "Katy, c'mon, this is. I'm just. I'm fine."

"Remember that time that our place flooded, and we couldn't go in, and we stayed with my parents because Daniel was home, and they made us sleep in separate beds for a week?" Katy says, insistently.

Kris nods, confused.

"You were stressed out, distracted and just," Katy gestures. "You were like you are right now. You can barely even muster a smile, and don't-" she says, cutting him off. "Don't tell me you're just tired. I don't believe it. This is for sure a case of blueballs."

"Katy, don't say balls," Kris says, dropping his head into his hands. Katy smiles and throws up her hands in surrender.

"Fine, fine," she says, picking up her magazine and flipping it open. "I've given my advice for the month, I guess. Now, tell me," she sips her coffee. "How's your mama?"

-

Adam corners Kris three days later, and Kris swears he's wearing eyeliner. Isn't there a dress code in this place?

"Look," Adam says, and Kris raises an eyebrow, because Adam is rarely this forceful with the nurses. He's rarely this forceful with anyone, apart from trouble patients and the particularly idiotic superiors.

Needless to say, Kris has never been on the end of this voice.

"I have about thirteen more people to triage, and I'm not sure-"

Adam cuts him off with an exasperated sigh that leaves Kris wondering what, exactly, he's done to make Adam so annoyed. He seems to be composing himself before he speaks.

"Kris, I have not, despite apparently popular belief, fucked everyone in this hospital." Adam bites back a smile when Kris' eyes widen, and he barrels on. "In fact, I've only even ever dated one person from this hospital, and for some unknown reason he's been spending all his time trying to help me get you."

"You dated Brad?" Kris says, because that's pretty much the only part of that sentence that sunk in.

"Yes, for about two years, and then he broke my heart and now we're friends and he's been telling me you'll be 'enlightened' any day now," Adam says, and he looks genuinely confused. "Any idea what that means?"

Kris bites his lower lip and then cracks up, laughing at Adam, whose confusion is mixed with amusement at Kris' seeming hysteria. When Kris finally catches his breath, he shakes his head.

"Brad seems to think that he's going to break my straight," Kris says. "Tell him he's gonna need to try harder."

-

Kris doesn't really realize the truth in what Katy's told him until a few days later, when counting to ten and leaving the room just doesn't cut it anymore.

"Look, I know you don't think it's important for you to do this, but I'm telling you that you need to get this done," Kris says, and he winces. He's too loud, he knows, and the guy in the bed is rolling his eyes, and Kris just fucking loses it. "As a medical professional-"

"A nurse," the guy spits and Kris is ten seconds away from punching him when there's a hand on his shoulder and Brad's showing him out of the room, throwing a wave to the patient in the bed.

He gets Kris down the hall and all the way outside before Kris freaks out at anything. But once they're clear, Kris slams a fist into the wall. Brad watches, calmly.

Kris wipes his face clear of the tears that are falling and shakes out his hand, swearing quietly. He leans against the wall and runs his sleeve under his nose before he looks up at Brad.

"He's gonna die," Kris says, and Brad nods. "If he doesn't do the procedure he's going to just-"

Brad reaches a hand out and grabs Kris by the chin.

"You're not going to make him do anything by telling him you're right and he's wrong and then punching him in the face when the stubborn idiot won't accept it."

Kris blinks, and then frowns.

"I hate it when you're right," he says under his breath.

"Oh, honey. Get used to it. I'm rarely wrong." Brad kisses him on the cheek and then pats his head, heading back inside.

 

-

"Shit," Kris swears and he staunches the blood flow with the gauze Max hands him. He reaches up to hits the code button, a loud beeping sounding before he yells into the intercom. "Code blue, ER 13, Code blue, ER 13."

Within seconds there are two more nurses and Kris is handing off the leg wound to someone else and intubating the patient. Adam shows up and Kris swears again, shaking out his cramped hand and working the breathing tube into the patient's throat, before pumping the oxygen. Adam's checking the guy's pupils, calling out to Max.

"Push the epinephrine, and for godssake someone get something for that wound, before Max loses feeling in his arms."

Kris watches as the patient jerks and then goes still. For a moment everyone in the room is holding their breath, waiting for that one heartbeat, the pulse point that makes this either one point on their card or another one for God.

It's been years and Kris still can't shake the feeling that sometimes they're in direct competition.

The heart monitor gives a start and then evens out, and the room lets out a near collective sigh of relief as Adam checks the patient's pulse.

"Get him to surgery," Adam says, and he pushes the door open so they can wheel the man out of the room. "Now."

Kris hands off the oxygen pump to the waiting nurse, and she walks away with the patient, calling out more instructions. Adam heads out the door and stands, watching them, until Kris comes up beside him.

"That was good," Kris says, quietly.

"Thanks," Adam says, and he smiles, a little, turning and looking down at Kris. "You too."

-

"He's so hot when he's competent, isn't he," Brad says. "All doctorly and ordering people around and saving lives."

The last part is accompanied by a sigh Kris isn't sure he's heard outside of soap operas.

"You're ridiculous," Kris says, and he rolls his shoulders, tilting his head back and cracking his neck. He's been here for too long, and this chair is starting to feel molded to his ass. "Also, you broke up with him."

"Just because I'm looking at the menu doesn't mean I'm going to order," Brad scoffs. "Seconds," he adds, laughing.

Kris feels a flare of what he can't quite call jealousy, but he pushes it down, blames it on too many hours sitting in the ER, alternating between chaos and dead quiet.

Brad swings his legs from where he's perched on the counter of the reception desk and winks at a passing paramedic, who blushes.

"Look," Brad says, leveling his gaze at Kris. "You can't tell me you're totally immune to him. He's like, Adam."

"Yeah," Kris says. "He's definitely that."

 

-

Kris doesn't mean to eavesdrop, but he's coming around a corner and catches Adam explaining to the Chief of Medicine, Doctor Conais, why he can't make the banquet that Friday.

"I don't care what it is, Lambert. This is the third one you've missed," Conais says, and he's clearly pissed, his tone giving everything away. Kris peeks around the corner, and he can see Adam's face, composed and mostly expressionless.

"It's not that I don't want to, but I just honestly can't make this one," Adam says, and Conais throws up his hands.

"I can't keep telling them to promote you if you won't put in the time, Adam. I'm sorry, but I guess it's just not going to happen this year."

"No, sir. I guess not," Adam says, and he gives a small smile as Conais walks away.

Kris catches Adam as he comes around the corner, and he puts a hand on Adam's forearm, stopping him.

"Hey," Kris says, and he's surprised at how tired Adam looks, suddenly, when he hadn't before. "Didn't you tell Brandon you'd cover for him on Friday?" When Adam nods, Kris raises an eyebrow, accusing. "And isn't the Donor's Banquet on Friday?"

Adam tenses and then shakes Kris' hand off. He's not angry, but there's a strain in his eyes that Kris hasn't seen there before.

"Brandon's daughter's dance recital is on Friday night. She's the lead." Adam says it like it explains everything, but Kris isn't convinced.

"You've been the ER resident for almost a year, Adam," Kris says, and Adam nods. "I just, no one else has been here for that long. I don't understand why you'd-"

"Jeopardize my chances at glad handing corporate slaves so I can make sure her dad is there to see her proudest moment?"

Adam's voice is venomous and Kris steps back, surprised.

"I hadn't thought of it that way."

Adam glances down at Kris and almost reaches out when he sees the chastised look on Kris' face, but Kris shakes his head, and Adam drops his hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you."

"No," Kris says, and he smiles. "I knew you were a good doctor, Adam. But I didn't know you were such a good man."

-

"I'm just saying that maybe the heels were a bad plan," Adam says, and he winks at Kris, who hides a smile by taking a sip from his water bottle.

Brad makes a face that's about two steps away from a snarl, and then kicks out a leg, putting his hands on his waist. Adam's leaning on the edge of the nurses station counter, and Kris is sitting on a spare gurney that's been left by the paramedics. Brad is supposed to be covering the desk, but it's dead, so he's standing by the back, having what had been, up until now, a friendly conversation with Adam and Kris.

"And I'm just saying that maybe if someone hadn't had quite so many vodka martinis they'd have been able to help me with those stairs before I fell." Brad exclaims and Kris shoots him a look, amused and curious. Martinis, huh.

Adam pushes off the counter and wraps an arm around Brad, who shoves at him.

"Hey, I'm not the one who created my own drink and then decided to buy enough of them to make the bartender memorize it for next time," Adam says, and then he shushes Brad. "And when the hell is next time, anyway. We never go there."

Brad looks up at Adam, then over at Kris.

"Fuck him," Brad says, and Kris laughs while Adam pretends to look hurt and offended. "We only never go there because of that one time last June when Adam decided-"

"No, no!" Adam says, and he shoves Brad, putting a hand over Brad's mouth. Kris watches the two of them go from slap fight into pathetic giggling, and it's contagious enough that Kris is joining in, the three of them gasping for air by the time Adam lets Brad go. "We said we'd never speak of that, and if you ever tell anyone, I will make sure that the entire hospital knows exactly what sexual position is your favourite."

"Reverse cowgirl," Brad and Kris intone, at the same time. They both look at each other and burst out laughing again, while Adam looks on, impressed and horrified.

"Oh, my god."

-

"It's our anniversary, Kristopher."

It's Adam's voice, but it's not Adam he's looking at. The Adam he knows wears lab coats and black pants and dress shirts in varying shades of grey and pushes his hair back because it's constantly a little bit of a mess.

This Adam is wearing black boots unlaced to the ankle, painted on jeans and a blue t-shirt that makes his eyes pop, helped out by the sweep of blue liner painted around them.

"Holy cow," Kris says, and he stands in the middle of the locker room, one sneaker dangling from his hand, forgotten.

"You forgot," Adam says, and he pouts and Kris opens his mouth to speak and nothing comes out. Adam fills in the blank. "We've now been working together for exactly one year."

Kris counts backward in his head and then nods, slowly. He smiles, and then lets out a surprised little huff.

"Wow, yeah. You're right, it has been a year." He manages to slide his other foot into his shoe and lace it up, the threadbare soles of his own Converse feeling amazing after nearly ten hours on his feet.

When he looks back up, Adam is staring at him, exasperated.

"What?" Kris says, bewildered. Adam sighs, and then reaches down, tugging at Kris' arm.

"We're going out. Seriously," Adam says, and tugs some more. Kris snags his bag from the locker and slams it shut behind him. "I mean, when was the last time you were out?"

Kris follows him along the hallway, acutely aware that Adam's still holding his hand and mostly pulling him along. Kris is doing a good job ignoring the pointed stares. And one catcall. He'll kill Brad later.

"Um, I don't know. I went out for coffee last week?" Kris says, and he slings his backpack over his shoulder. Adam makes a distressed noise.

"It was in the afternoon, wasn't it?" Adam says, and when Kris nods, he repeats the noise. "Okay, we're getting you to a bar. There's going to be beer, and maybe something stronger than beer. There is going to be dim lighting and dirty, sticky floors. And conversation that doesn't revolve around then newest EKG equipment or who I might be sleeping with."

Adam looks at him, pointedly, and Kris' eyes widen, worried.

"I don't-"

"Yeah, yeah. Brad tells me what you guys talk about," Adam says, but it's teasing and Kris relaxes.

They walk two blocks and Adam pushes open the door to a pub, and Kris breathes a sigh of relief. The second Adam had said 'dirty, sticky floors' he'd had a bit of a panic attack. It's not that he didn't like bars, he's just not really a bar type of guy. Pubs are more his thing. He shoots Adam a grateful look, and gets a flashy smile in return.

"Booth in the back, please," Adam says, turning his smile on the waitress, who flushes. She seats them quickly and then takes their drink orders, coming back with two pints.

It's Kris who raises his glass, smiling. He feels lighter, somehow.

"To us," he says, and Adam smiles, delighted.

"To us."

Kris blushes. Shit.

-

Kris gets transferred out of the ER and into the ICU after one year, three months and six days.

After he forgot last time, he'd wanted to keep track for the next anniversary.

 

-

"I'm not going to kiss you," Kris says, and he's sure he sounds resoundingly convincing.

"You're drunk," Adam replies, raising an eyebrow. "That's why we're walking you home."

"This is," Kris says, accusingly, pointing his finger at Adam, "the fifth time this month that you've gotten me drunk."

Adam grins, steadying Kris as they reach his apartment.

"No," Adam says, and Kris hands Adam his key, standard routine by now. "This is the fifth time we've gone out and you've gotten _yourself_ drunk."

Kris makes a face and then stumbles up the steps, pushing open his door and flicking on the light. Adam tosses Kris' key on the counter and then moves into the kitchen, pouring Kris a glass of water, and setting it next to the bed, where Kris is already sprawled, fully clothed.

"I'm sorry," Kris says, and he moves the hand off his face, looking up at Adam, who shrugs. "No, really. I shouldn't be like this, I know. I drink too much."

"Stress of the job," Adam says, and he sits down across from Kris, who turns in the bed to face him, sitting up. "We all deal with it in different ways. It's not like you're an alcoholic."

Kris nods, then blushes. He opens his mouth to speak, then stops. He fidgets with his duvet cover, and then tries again.

"Katy said I need to get laid." He knows that this is where he laughs. Where he jokes it off, something his ex said. Blue balls, ha.

Neither of them laugh.

"Maybe she's right. If you're stressed out, it can be a good way to let off some steam," Adam says, carefully. "Maybe next time we go out we can go to a club, or something. I mean, you're cute, you'd be able to find a girl, I'm sure."

"I'm not really the type for one night stands," Kris says, and he closes his eyes, tilting his head back. "And most people don't get that my job is sort of more important to me than anything else."

The bed shifts and when Kris opens his eyes, he looks sideways at Adam, who's sitting next to him, looking concerned.

"Do you think you need to get laid?"

Coming from anyone else, Kris would have shrugged it off. But Adam gets him, more than anyone else he's known in a long time. Maybe even more than Katy does. It's scary, and it's comforting all at the same time. It's only been a year and a half, but Kris is pretty sure he's found a friend for life.

"Yeah, I think I do."

"Go to sleep," Adam says, and he palms Kris' neck, smiling. "We'll work on getting you laid tomorrow. Night, Kris."

"Night, Adam."

-

"Who," Katy says, jabbing Kris in the side, "was that?"

Adam's been working opposite shifts from Kris for about three weeks, and it's been their new thing to try to meet up for a few minutes before Adam had to get to work.

Kris isn't going to say that he'd been hoping Katy wouldn't spot Adam, but.

"Adam Lambert," Kris says, and he resigns himself. "He's someone from work."

"He's a _someone_ from work," Katy says, disbelieving. "A someone from work who pays for your drink, hangs on your every word and hugs you goodbye."

"He's a friend," Kris says, and he avoids Katy's eyes. Unfortunately for him, Katy's known him for too long to let him get away with anything.

"Bullshit," she says, and Kris frowns, setting his coffee down.

"He's my best friend," Kris says. "I'm so sick and tired of everyone coming down on me all the time. Adam's a great guy, he's-"

"Kris," Katy cuts him off. Kris stops, and blinks. "I'm not calling bullshit on the fact that you're friends."

"Oh," Kris looks at her, confused. "Then-"

"I'm calling bullshit on the fact that you're _only_ friends," Katy finishes, and Kris is cornered, the way only she's ever been able to get him.

"It's not like that, though. With me and Adam. We're just. Not like that," Kris finishes, lamely.

"Kris." Katy's voice is serious, and her tone forces Kris to look at her. "It's okay to be in love with him."

"Oh," Kris says, and he suddenly can't breathe all that well. "Oh."

-

Working in the ICU is surprisingly more relaxing than Kris assumed it would be. But it's unsurprisingly lonelier.

At the end of a short shift, he ends up in the ER, leaning on the wall and grinning as Brad tries to explain to an elderly woman why she can't have a room before the kid with the head trauma.

It always amazes Kris how patient Brad is with the people who go through the ER, especially since Kris has seen how impatient Brad can be with him.

That's unfair, though. Brad's done nothing but be Kris' friend. Above and beyond, really. He smiles.

He watches Brad shake off the old lady, showing her back to her seat and then he creeps up behind him, waiting till Brad's sitting to start digging his thumbs into the knots in Brad's shoulders.

"Kris Allen, I wondered where you'd gone with those magic hands of yours," Brad speaks without opening his eyes, and it makes Kris smile. He works at Brad's shoulders while Brad makes little noises of contentment, and they're both silent for a few minutes.

"How's the ER?" Kris asks, still kneading. Brad waves a hand.

"Same old. How's ICU?"

"My life is not the same without you," Kris says, and he pinches a little, laughing when Brad bats him off. "But I get along."

"Sure you do," Brad says, like he knows better. Which Kris is pretty sure he does.

Brad spins in the chair and faces Kris, who looks down at him, amused.

"What," Kris asks and Brad just shrugs, then licks his lips. "Okay, seriously. What?"

"Kris Allen, I have been thinking long and hard about this." He glares when Kris opens his mouth to make the obvious joke, and then continues, primly. "And it is time for me to impart some serious wisdom."

Kris grabs a chair and sits with his legs on either side, his arms crossed over the back, schooling his features into rapt attention.

"I'm ready."

"I'm not going to say he wouldn't wait forever for you, because the honest to god truth is that he would. He'd follow you around forever, set you up with the girl of your dreams, be the best man at your wedding and godfather to all the tiny Kris Allen JR's you'd have running around," Brad says, and he looks a little pissed. "He'd wait, without even a sliver of a chance that you'd ever end up on the same page. But honey," Brad says, and he grabs Kris' hand. "That's not fair to him, and if you can't see what's between you, then I just plain give up."

Kris slumps forwards in his chair, pulling his hand from Brad's.

"He'd wait forever, huh?"

"Longer, if he could," Brad says, insistently.

"And he'd be the best man, at my wedding?" Kris puts a hand on his chin, thoughtful.

"Kris, he'd do it gladly."

"And I'm really naming all my children Kris Allen Jr?" Kris says, and this time he can't quite contain the smile. It takes Brad a second before he clues in, and he's in the middle of a tantrum when Kris grabs his arm, tugging him back into his chair.

"You're sort of a douche," Brad says, and he sticks out his tongue at Kris.

"Relax, drama queen," Kris says, and he claps Brad's shoulder, standing as Brad flips him off. "I got this."

-

Adam nudges Kris, pulling a face and gesturing at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Kris shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. He's been avoiding Adam, and it was only a matter of time before Adam called him on it and pulled him out to the bar. So here they are, sitting on two stools, Kris' eyes glued to baseball game without processing an iota of it.

When Adam shifts, Kris finally looks at him. The look of hurt and surprise on Adam's face takes him aback. He hadn't meant to-

"If you don't want to be here, you can go," Adam says, and Kris sets his beer down, turning toward Adam, who shakes his head. "I thought we were friends, but clearly something's pissing you off. So either talk about it, or leave. Freezing me out is not an option."

Kris frowns, because he's got it all planned out, in his head. How he's gonna say it, how Adam's gonna take it. The aftermath.

And now, faced with it for real, it's a totally different deal. It's the most impossible think Kris has ever had to do, and now he doesn't know if he can do it.

He's waited too long, and Adam huffs, taking a deep breath and then exhaling.

"Okay, whatever. I'm not gonna stick around and fucking fake watch baseball," Adam says, and he stands up, dropping some money on the bar and shrugging his coat on. "Besides, I work tomorrow."

Kris watches Adam head toward the door. He thinks about what work would be like when he has to see Adam everyday and they aren't friends anymore. Kris is realizing that it's not just being around Adam that he'll miss, but even the looking forward to it.

So he gets up, follows Adam out the door. Adam's stopped just outside the bar, like he doesn't know which direction to take, his lower lip between his teeth and his hands in his jacket pockets.

Kris puts a hand on Adam's sleeve, tugging at it. Adam turns, but he won't look at Kris, his eyes solidly above Kris' head.

"Adam," Kris says, and something in his voice makes Adam look down.

"I just don't get it. I know it's been a thing, at work. People always talk, but we're friends. You mean a lot to me, that's all."

It spills out of Adam's mouth before Kris can even get started, and Kris quirks a half smile, his jaw a little sideways.

"Yeah, you mean a lot to me too," Kris says, and Adam doesn't quite smile back, looking more confused than relieved. "I mean, _a lot_ a lot."

Adam raises an eyebrow and Kris shakes his head, stopping Adam's question before it starts.

"Brad said you'd wait for me," Kris says, carefully. "He said that you'd wait forever, even if I never-"

He trails off, unsure of what he'd never. Adam sighs, and gives a half eye-roll, more at Brad than at anything else.

"He needs to learn to stick to dabbling in astrology, and not my fucking love life," Adam says, then closes his eyes in frustration. "Sorry, not love life. That was stupid."

Kris' smile fades, and he fidgets, sliding his hand off Adam's sleeve and tucking it into his pockets to keep from picking at his nails. Nervous habit.

"Not so stupid?" Kris says, and Adam opens his eyes, looking at Kris. Adam's expression is carefully blank, waiting for the answer to the non-question. "I don't want you to keep waiting."

Adam nods, slowly, and bites again at his lower lip, his eyes dark.

"Awesome," Adam says, voice sharp and choked. "I'm glad we cleared that up, then. I'll see you around."

Adam pushes past Kris, his head low, eyes downcast, refusing to look at Kris as he walks past.

It takes a minute for Kris to figure out what just happened, but the second he does, he's turning around to head after Adam for the second time that night.

He catches up, pulling again on Adam's sleeve. This time Adam stops, but doesn't turn, and it's Kris who moves around so they're facing each other, his hand on Adam's shoulder.

"Adam, I didn't mean it like that." Kris licks his lips, taking a deep breath before he starts again. At least Adam's not walking away from him. "I mean that I don't want to keep you waiting, anymore."

He figures, in his head, that this when he reaches up and kisses Adam, but instead he's stuck where he is, waiting to make sure it hit. Because he doesn't know how else to say it, if Adam doesn't get it this time.

"Oh," Adam says, and he looks down at Kris' hand on his shoulder and then meets Kris' eyes, his own widening. "I'm gonna kill you for not just saying that."

Kris laughs, relieved when Adam joins in. Kris moves in, and Adam pulls him into a tight hug, Kris' face buried in Adam's chest, inhaling the smell of leather and Adam's cologne. He's never gotten over hugging Adam; it's like nothing else.

Adam's stroking the back of Kris' neck, and when Kris pulls back he keeps his hand there, so Kris can't pull back more than a few inches, just enough to look up into Adam's face. A small smile and a quick breath is the only indication he gets before Adam's pulling him into a kiss, chaste and careful, the two of them holding back, both unsure of the reality of the situation, let alone the limits.

Kris puts both hands on either side of Adam's neck, and kisses him harder. He opens his mouth, lets Adam slip his tongue inside, the two of them groaning and Kris pressing up against Adam. Adam wraps his arms around Kris, pulls him in and then inches both of them back, till Kris' back is pressed against the wall of the bar.

Kris can feel the scratch of brick against his skin where his shirt is riding up, but Adam's fingers are pressed there too, and it's enough to make Kris pull out of the kiss and gasp, looking up at Adam.

Adam's looking down at him, and his lips are already red and wet, and Kris lets out another little noise. Adam smiles, and leans in, nuzzling at his jaw.

"Adam," Kris says, and Adam pulls back, looking at him questioningly. "Can we-"

"This _is_ what you meant, right?" Adam says, worry creeping into his tone.

"Yes, for sure yes," Kris says, nodding reassuringly. "But can we do it somewhere that isn't the middle of the street? We're offending my Southern sensibilities."

Adam looks around, as if suddenly realizing where they are. He ducks his head and then nods, laughing and pushing himself off Kris and tangling their fingers together. They walk down the street, hand in hand, and Kris feels his face flush. He grins.

"I don't know how this goes," Adam says, after a minute. He looks perplexed, like he's been thinking about something too hard.

"That's not good," Kris says, smiling. He looks sideways at Adam, a little mischievous. "Because I was sort of hoping one of us had done this before, but clearly your reputation has been severely exaggerated."

Adam laughs and pushes at Kris without letting go of his hand, and Kris laughs back, and it's easy, like this. It's better than Kris was hoping. It's easy and perfect to lean in and pull Adam down for a quick kiss while they walk.

"I meant I don't know how this goes with you," Adam says and Kris' look sobers, but he shrugs, unworried. Adam continues. "Okay, for example. Where are we going right now?"

"Um," Kris says, and he makes a face. "My place?"

It's closer, but Adam's right, he hasn't really thought this through, beyond what he actually feels for Adam. Which, thinking about it now, he should tell Adam.

"So we're heading to-" Adam starts, but Kris stops walking, making Adam pause in his question.

"I love you," Kris says, and Adam breaks into a smile. "I just wanted you to know."

-

"You cleaned." Adam sounds surprised, looking around Kris' living room. "Did you plan this?"

Kris flicks on the light next to the couch, but heads down the hall to his bedroom instead.

"Either you were coming home with me and we were ignoring it, or you were dragging my drunk ass home and sleeping on the couch. Either way, yeah. I cleaned."

It's called over his shoulder as he turns on the bedroom light, then pulls the blinds closed, shutting out the streetlights and the neighbour's view.

"You're not subtle," Adam says, and when Kris turns around, he finds Adam leaning on the bedroom door frame, arms loose at his sides, a smirk on his face. It's the closest to predatory that Kris has ever really seen Adam, and even that's making him half hard in his jeans. "Come here."

Kris walks forward, hands shaking until he flexes them, releasing the tension as best he can. He's never been around someone who does to him what Adam does and it's like all the blood is rushing to his head. When they're standing within inches of each other, Adam reaches out, tugging Kris towards him and pulling him into a kiss, one hand wrapped around the back of his neck, the other palming his hip, where Kris' skin is already hot.

Adam's kissing dirty, forceful and rough, and when Kris pulls back, Adam tugs on his lower lip with his teeth. Kris can feel the skin bruising already.

They're both breathing hard and when Kris looks up, meeting Adam's eyes, there's worry there, edging in on the lust.

"Too rough?" Adam asks. Kris can tell that he's trying to play it cool, keep it light, but it's an important question. Kris hadn't gone into this expecting anything, but finding out Adam likes to play it rough isn't exactly a surprise.

Kris shakes his head and unclenches his hands from where they're fisted against Adam's chest.

"No, not at all," Kris says, and he blushes a little, ducking his head into Adam's chest and pushing at the gap where Adam's shirt meets his belt. "I liked it."

Adam makes a small noise, and then swears before pushing Kris back a little, and tugging his own shirt off before working at the button on Kris'.

"You know, we're gonna look into snaps for you, okay?" Adam says, finishing the last button and leaning down to bite at Kris' nipple. "Because it's just unfair that it takes me this long to get you naked."

Kris laughs through a moan and uses one hand to pull Adam into another kiss, while the other traces out skin he's never seen from Adam before, across his chest, over his nipples, down his stomach and over his hipbones, where his pants are sliding down.

When the two of them pull back, Kris leans his forehead against Adam's, breathing hard and smiling, crooked and goofy. Adam palms his cheek, eyes questioning, smile matching Kris'.

"What," Adam finally asks, when after a minute Kris hasn't done anything but trail fingers across Adam's biceps and keep on smiling.

"I'm just gonna need a minute to get that this is actually happening," Kris says, and Adam tilts Kris' chin up, kissing him softly.

"We can stop, if you want."

"Are you kidding?" Kris says, pushing back into Adam's body, angling his hips so Adam can feel Kris' dick, hard through his jeans.

Adam doesn't answer, just laughs, soft and dark in Kris' ear, before he's walking Kris backwards towards the bed, the two of them stumbling a little, sneaking kisses.

Kris ends up flat on his back, staring up at Adam. He watches Adam undo his own belt, and tug the fly of his slacks down before pushing them and his boxers off. Adam's hard, and Kris inhales, sharp. Adam's watching Kris' face, and Kris sits up, his own dick painful against the zipper of his jeans. He looks up at Adam's face and sees nervousness there and it makes him feel a little better, that it means as much to Adam as it does to him.

He wraps a hand around Adam's dick and watches Adam's mouth part on a moan, before Kris closes his own eyes and licks at the head. He's surprised at how much he wants this, wants Adam in his mouth. He's also wondering how he hadn't clued into this before.

He's sloppy with it, messy and wet, and his jaw aches. He's ready to pull off when Adam tangles his hands in Kris' hair, tugging just a little too hard, and oh.

Oh.

Kris tilts his head up, following the pull of Adam's hands and letting his dick slide out with a wet sound. Adam's pupils are blown and his eyes are half shut and he's looking at Kris like he wants to eat him alive.

Kris is breathing open mouthed, and he can feel how swollen his lips are and how wet Adam's dick is. Adam tugs on his hair again and Kris moans, broken and quiet, and Adam's hips jerk forward.

"Adam, please." The words surprise even Kris, who hadn't meant to say them, and certainly not in that tone. It's desperate and wrecked and Adam guides him back onto his dick, this time thrusting gently, rubbing the head against the roof of Kris' mouth then pushing down his throat, letting Kris gag a little before pulling back to let him breathe.

Kris can tell Adam's holding back, and there are a few times where he keeps Kris pressed down a little longer so that Kris is gasping by the time Adam pulls back. He doesn't miss the way it makes Adam's breath hitch, either. When Adam's got him pressed there the next time, his hips twitch, and that's the warning Kris gets before Adam's coming, the grip he has on Kris' head forcing him to swallow. When he pulls out, Kris tastes come in the back of his throat, and Adam's dick smears it across his lips and tongue.

Adam drops to his knees and Kris doesn't have time for a breath before Adam's kissing him, deep and fiercely possessive, tongue and teeth, his thumbs tracing at Kris' cheekbones and jaw, dipping into his open mouth whenever one of them pulls back. He's panting, and when Kris manages to get a good look at Adam's face, it's wet and wrecked, his eyes glazed over.

"God, Kris," Adam says, and he presses a kiss to the tip of Kris' nose before sitting back on his heels, letting his hands sit on Kris' knees. He's looking at Kris like he's brand new, like he's never him like this before.

"Are you-" Kris starts, and he's shocked at how hoarse his voice is. It makes his dick twitch, painfully hard in his pants. "Was I good?"

Adam laughs, sounding exhausted and happy. "Kris, you were amazing. Fuck. You're _amazing_." Adam's laugh ends in a bit of a contented sigh. "We're doing that like, all the time. Just so you know. All the time. Constantly."

Kris laughs too, then, and tugs Adam into the bed, pulling him up and curling up next to him, pressing his face into the crook of Adam's neck and breathing him in. He listens to Adam's breath even out, and the rush of blood in his own ears fade while Adam strokes the hair at the back of his neck, soothing.

His jaw still aches and he cracks it, opening his mouth and popping it once or twice. He looks up at Adam, who's got his eyes closed but a decidedly satisfied and amused smirk on his face.

"What are you laughing at?" Kris says, and he turns over, propping himself up on an elbow and looking at Adam.

"Oh, nothing," Adam says, cracking open an eye, while his smile widens. "Feeling a little _used_ are we?"

Kris raises an eyebrow and makes a face at Adam.

"If you're not gonna take care of me, I could just do it myself," Kris says, and he rolls back over onto his back, palming himself through his jeans. He unzips and pushes his pants down, just to his thighs, leaving his boxer briefs covering his erection, tenting them obscenely. He closes his eyes and touches himself again, rubbing the heel of his hand across his dick and pointedly ignoring Adam.

Kris is just about to slide a hand into his underwear when Adam wraps a hand around his wrist, stopping him. Kris opens his eyes and Adam's flushed, watching him, his chin resting on his hand. He leans in and kisses Kris, still holding his wrist.

"What if I wanted you to jerk off for me?"

Kris nods and Adam lets go of his wrist, letting his hand rest on Kris' hip. Kris pushes his briefs off, his jeans with them, and licks his lips. He looks up at Adam, a little helplessly.

"What's wrong?" Adam says, and Kris smiles, biting into his lip.

"Just shy, I guess? I mean, I've never exactly done this with an audience. I don't know what to do."

"You don't know how to jerk off?" Adam teases, then glances down at Kris' dick, before looking back at his face. "Just do what you'd do on your own."

"What, pretend you're not here?"

"Hell no," Adam says, and he digs his nails into Kris' skin, just a little. "I'm here. I want you to come all over yourself while I watch."

It makes Kris moan and he feels his chest get all tight. He wraps a hand around the base of his dick, almost more instinct than anything else.

"Mhm, baby. Just like that." Adam's voice is dirty and quiet in Kris' ear and Kris' eyes drop closed and he starts stroking, harder at the tip, his calloused fingers pushing at the crown. "What else gets you off," Adam asks. "Show me."

Kris spreads his legs a little wider, his knees splayed to the side while he uses his other hand to cup his balls. When he tugs on them, gently and then a little harder, he can't help but groan, arching up into his hand. Kris hears Adam chuckle and he opens his eyes again, looking over.

"I guess I didn't have to worry about too rough, huh?" Adam says, breathless.

Kris moans again, because Adam moves, sitting up and kicking Kris' pants to the floor. Adam kneels between Kris' legs before sliding down to his stomach, one hand on either of Kris' thighs.

"What are you doing?" Kris' hand stills and he looks down at Adam, confused.

"Getting a better view," Adam says, and Kris leans his head back as Adam scoots close enough to Kris' dick that he can feel Adam's breath on his fingers. "Keep going."

Kris is stroking harder, faster and he moves the hand on his balls to clutch at the bed sheets, moaning.

"Fuck, Adam, I'm gonna come."

"C'mon, baby," Adam says, and Kris jerks his hips off the bed, coming into his hand, moaning brokenly as he pushes into Adam's grip on his thighs.

He comes down slowly, and Adam's got his mouth wrapped around Kris' fingers, cleaning him up, eyes closed. Kris moans, softly, and his dick twitches, oversensitive and spent.

Adam slides back up and pulls Kris into him, kissing the back of his neck until Kris calms down. When Kris' breathing evens out, he rolls over to face Adam. He sighs as Adam smiles down at him, and turns his face into Adam's fingers when they press against his cheek. He opens his eyes, slowly.

"You okay?" Adam's voice is soft and Kris nods, shivering a little.

"I wasn't expecting that to be like. Well, that." Kris takes a deep breath and moves in closer, leaning up and kissing Adam, gently.

"Yeah," Adam says, and he pushes the hair off Kris' forehead, smiling at him. "Me neither."

"You didn't even touch me," Kris says, amazed and a little embarrassed and he turns over so Adam's spooned up against his back.

"I know," Adam says, and Kris lets the smugness slide, because it's somewhat warranted. "Just wait till I do."

Kris pulls the blankets up over them and Adam snuggles closer, pulling Kris in and biting gently into his shoulder, before kissing it.

"Next time," Kris mumbles, sleepy.

"Love you," Adam replies. "I love you."

Kris smiles and tucks himself in closer to Adam.

-

When Kris wakes up the next morning he's cocooned in blankets, warm and comfortable and all by himself. He rolls over and the sheets are all messed up where Adam was sleeping, but Adam's not there.

There is, however, someone banging around in his kitchen.

Kris throws his boxers on and heads out, rubbing his eyes. Adam's in the kitchen, wearing his dress shirt untucked and his belt open, socks on, his hair artfully messed and he looks like he's engaged in a pretty epic battle with Kris' coffee pot.

"What are you doing?"

Adam jumps, scattering coffee grounds across the counter and cursing loudly.

Adam turns around, eyes wide. "Shit, Kris. You scared the crap out of me. Fucking, _stomp_. Or something." Kris bites back a laugh, smiling.

"Sorry? Can I help you, or something? What are you even doing up?" He walks towards Adam and then stops, his smile faltering. "Oh."

"Oh?" Adam says. He grabs a paper towel and starts cleaning up coffee grounds.

"You were trying to sneak out," Kris says, and his voice sounds a little lost.

"What?" Adam says, surprised. He drops the paper towel, moving towards Kris. "No, no. Hell no."

"Then-"

"Some of us didn't _know_ they were getting laid last night and didn't switch to the afternoon shift. I work at six," Adam says, and he tilts Kris' chin up, kissing him. "There's no way I'd be sneaking out on you."

Kris relaxes into Adam's touch and kisses him back, soft and happy, before he pulls back.

"Want me to make you some coffee?"

"See, and you thought I'd leave someone like that? Never."

-

Brad leans over the counter and rolls his eyes. When Kris doesn't react, Brad lets out a loud sigh. When Kris still doesn't react, Brad lets himself slip off the counter to the floor.

"Hey, Brad," Kris says, hiding his smile.

"Oh, thank god." Brad stands and leans across the counter again. "You've been back working in the ER for like, six months."

Kris nods, and fills out three more charts, handing them to the paramedic, Drake something or other, before turning back to Brad. Brad, who is momentarily distracted, flashes a smile at Drake something or other as he leaves.

"Brad?" Kris says, finally and Brad waves a hand at the paramedic before snapping back to attention.

"Okay, so. My question here is why, for the love of everything gay and glam, _why_ haven't you been kissing and telling. Or blowing and telling. Or fuck-"

"I get it," Kris says, holding up a hand, laughing. "And because I'm a gentleman. And I don't kiss and tell. Or do anything else and tell," Kris finishes, blushing.

Brad launches into a rant about the sisterhood of sharing, which, according to Brad, involves a lot of making out and secret 'handshakes' and some other things Kris is seriously dubious of. Fortunately, Adam strolls in right around the beginning of a detailed explanation of initiation involving something called the 'American Dream'.

"Brad, please," Adam says, and he leans on the counter next to him, smiling down at Kris. "Leave the boy alone. He's only been gay for about six months."

"Enlightened," Kris and Brad both chime in and then high five. Adam shakes his head.

"Should I be worried about the two of you getting along? Because to be honest, I'm a little worried."

Kris shakes his head and refiles the folders he was working on before unclipping his work badge and stuffing it into a drawer. He walks around the desk and leans up, kissing Adam, softly.

Brad sighs again and stomps off, heavily. Kris pulls back, smiling.

"I love it when he's annoyed," Kris says, tangling his fingers with Adam's.

"Mm, me too. We used to have the best sex after a fight. He'd be all-" Adam starts, and Kris smacks him. "I thought you were sharing? No? Should I stop telling Brad about the noises you make when I-"

"Oh. Oh, I hate you. You're never getting laid ever again."

"I give it two weeks," Adam says, and he pulls Kris in for another kiss. "I love you."

"Love you too. Jerkface."

-


End file.
